


Darkness and Light(cause letting you go should've been worse)

by slater (orphan_account)



Category: One Direction (Band), Taylor Swift (Musician)
Genre: Other, and harry's pretty fucked in the head, basically a haylor fic with zero haylor, taylor's a selfish asshole
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-25
Updated: 2013-03-25
Packaged: 2017-12-06 12:15:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/735521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/slater
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry has a warped perception of reality, and Taylor just wants something to hate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Darkness and Light(cause letting you go should've been worse)

**Author's Note:**

> this runs the risk of being very shitty, but just something really quickly.

It starts how it ended the first time: with a song in the background like it should've been a movie set, and an unfamiliar scent burning in her nose. 

“Harry?” He hears her voice high in his ears, vowels too sharp in the air around him but soothing all the same. The same way it's always been. The urge to stand ground, ignore her and walk away is strong, but his curiosity is stronger. It always is with her.   
He turns around from his place in the queue slowly, like he's having trouble placing the voice, even though he knows she can tell it's a front. 

“Hi.” He speaks slowly, something like awe washing over him.

“Remember me?” She smiles at him. Teeth still sparkling against blood red, even after all these years. 

“How could I forget?” He asks playfully, stepping to the side out of the way of other people in the queue who don't have the time to be held up. She doesn't take the same courtesy, he didn't expect her to. “America's sweetheart you are.”

“Ahh, London's as well now Harry.” She laughs in front of him and god why now. “And sweeter than ever, lately.” She's confident, overly so and he wishes he can change that. 

“I heard.” He crosses his arms, trying to show indifference, to be unimpressed. It doesn't work though, it's a forced gesture and not due to the sling wrapped around his left arm.

“Heard what, exactly?” She replies slyly. 

This isn't a game. He wants to scream. We can't be civil, not even now.(but that's a front too.)

“I heard about your charity and your clothing deal with Burberry and the childrens' museum you pretty much paid for. And hell, I'm surprised you haven't started selling cars.”

“Well, I am thinking..” She trails off, tapping her index finger against her chin and Harry feels mocked. He feels hurt and he wants to feels....something that's his definition of real. He wants to feel all those things he read about in books and has seen in movies, that feeling his sister felt when she was 22. It should have come by now, he thinks. Especially when he's in the perfect position for it. It's been 10 years and she should be the one that got away, not the one who never stayed in the first place. He should feel regret, shouldn't he?  
He's wanted for a while and she just won't give like he needs her to. He wants to feel a new heartbreak after love. Needs to.

“You look good.” He stammers. “Not that you didn't before, s'just that now, yeah.” He rambles off a bit, trying to mimic the romantic comedies who's reality never seems to match his.

“Still a sly talker I see.” She smiles even wider and Harry feels his chest tighten. The line is getting backed up because of her, but nobody hops in front. He wishes they would.

“Well it was nice seeing you.” He realizes his failure and desperately tries to remove himself from the situation. He's seen this happen too many times before. It's not his fault, really. His technique is perfect, he just hasn't found someone who has the same experience. He's trying to not let his emotions get to him (even if they aren't there), doesn't want them to show through his armor(but he really does want them to.) He begins backing away slowly, praying that she'll stop him, that he'll get his Serendipity ending. He turns around, from his original position of walking backwards, to the exit door, his eyes focused on the push-pull handles instead of her figure he wants to lust over. She'd be perfect for this. Breathes coming through his mouth in sharp gusts, he waits a few seconds more, prayer still heavy in his mind.   
Call me, call me back. Tell me you want, need, desire me. I don't want to be the only one hurt by this. 

“Hey, Harry?” 

He turns around, corners of his mouth twitching, fighting to keep his eyes at their normal wide size. His hand is still resting on the push handle, ready for rejection, humiliation or acceptance, loyalty, new love. 

“You looked better at 18, babe.” 

At least he was prepared.


End file.
